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‘What?’
‘Dad said you were ill.’
I am ill. I feel sick to my stomach. But my brain quickly engages, telling me Ryan must’ve made up the excuse on the phone last night to save telling the truth, which, of course, he can’t do. Because he doesn’t know the damn truth. ‘Much better.’ I take myself behind the counter and open my laptop, just for something to do. She hasn’t answered my question, and I hate that I need her to. But I refuse to ask again. So I tap at the keys aimlessly, the silence stretching.
I look up at her and she gives me straight lips, and I go back to tapping. I look at her again. More straight lips. God damn it. I slam the lid down. ‘What knight-in-shining-armor act, Alex?’
‘Urghhhhhh.’ She sags, her head dropping. ‘So there was this thing that happ—’
She’s interrupted when the door flings open and Darcy Hampton appears. ‘There you are!’ She breezes in, smiley, looking all casual in jeans, riding boots, and a Barbour jacket.
I cock my head, eyeing her suspiciously. She looks rather outdoorsy, actually. Oh my. The stops have been well and truly pulled out. Whatever knight-in-shining-armor act Ryan has performed for Alex’s mother, she’s running with it.
‘Hi!’ she sings, pulling off her leather gloves and picking up a pot of paint from the shelf, inspecting it. ‘Alexandra tells me you’re running a painting competition at my parents’ town fete on Sunday.’
I shoot Alex a look, and she shrugs. ‘Yes,’ I say, because it’s all I have.
‘How exciting!’ Darcy proceeds to collect up a few more pots and brings them to the counter. ‘My girl had better get practising, then.’ Giving me a delighted grin, she pulls out her Mulberry wallet from her Mulberry handbag and hands me her black Amex. This is a very different reception from the last time I saw Darcy Hampton. She seems . . . bouncy. Nice. Polite. Alex is right to be worried. And so am I.
‘I’m sorry, I don’t take American Express,’ I say, smiling in apology.
She recoils, looking rather indignant. ‘Whyever not?’
‘The transaction fee is so high. I simply can’t sustain it.’
‘Oh.’ She tucks it back in. ‘I’m afraid I don’t carry cash.’
‘It’s fine.’ I push the paints across the counter, keen to get her out of here. I hope Ryan is still asleep. I can tell Alex is concerned, too. She keeps flicking nervous looks up to the ceiling. ‘You can pop in and settle up with me when you have some.’
‘Oh.’ Darcy beams at me. ‘How very lovely of you.’
‘No problem.’ I quickly load the pots into a carrier bag and walk around the counter, taking the bag to the door with me and opening it for her. ‘Let me know if you need any help, Alex,’ I say as I hold up the bag on a smile and Darcy takes it, returning my friendliness.
‘Come on, Mum,’ Alex says urgently, claiming Darcy’s hand and pulling her onward. ‘Lots to do, so little time to do it.’
‘What’s the rush?’ Darcy laughs, pulling her hand from Alex’s and rearranging her bag in the crook of her arm. ‘Oh, wait, where did I leave my gloves?’ She turns and scans the shop. ‘Ah, there they are,’ she says as she makes her way back to the counter.
Darcy only takes a few strides in her fancy riding boots before coming to an abrupt halt, just as Ryan comes breezing in from the back, his head down as he rubs at his hair with a towel. His chest is bare. His jeans are undone.
‘I would have liked a cuddle in bed when I woke up,’ he says, and I cringe. ‘And a shower together.’
Darcy gasps, and Ryan looks up. His smile drops, as does the towel to the floor. ‘Darcy,’ he breathes, his blue eyes all big and round and What the fuck? ‘What a surprise.’
‘Shit,’ Alex hisses, her back flopping against the door. I’m with her. What a shitter.
‘Oh my,’ Darcy all but murmurs, standing stock-still in the middle of my shop. ‘I didn’t . . . I wasn’t aware . . .’ She flies around, and I take no pleasure from the embarrassment on her face. She marches forward, not even looking at me as she passes. ‘Come along, Alexandra.’ She’s gone like lightning, and Alex sighs, giving Ryan a look of pure exasperation.
‘What?’ he asks, showing the ceiling his palms. ‘I didn’t know she was here.’
‘Yeah, well, she certainly knows you’re here. Half naked. God, Dad!’
‘What are you doing here, anyway?’ he asks.
‘I left Mum in the shop to come find you.’
‘Oh, so it’s your fault.’ Ryan dips and collects the towel.
‘I was dealing with something urgent,’ she cries. ‘I needed to tell you.’
Ryan’s instantly alert. ‘What?’
I move to the table in the middle of the shop and start faffing with the display of art tools, feeling like an intruder. I still don’t know what this knight-in-shining-armor stunt is. Am I going to find out?
